The Problem Isn't Your Blood Color
by Kittyen
Summary: You may have been the Sufferer on Alternia, but here, you were just the Insufferable, and nothing more.


**AN: So, posting some of my ao3 stuff here, and while re-editing this I ****_think _****I fixed all the tense errors? If not, let me know please. Thanks, and hope you enjoy I guess. This was written for my best friend for Christmas, as we were both big Homestucks at the time and she loved Kankri to bits.**

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When you had met your dancestor, you weren't very impressed. Oh no, you didn't think he was anything special at all, just a simple version of you with a gray sweater on. If anything, you were better than him, more important, more noteworthy.

Hah, who were you kidding? You weren't worth anything.

Your dancestor was actually smaller than you, nearly an inch difference, but you just tagged it as the result of the different ages between the two of you. He would most likely reach your height soon, probably by the next time you meet him, if that ever happened. He was loud and obnoxious, just like you, so much like you, but held an underlying tone of compassion that made you envious.

After all, you couldn't follow his lead. You had to stay the 'Insufferable'. If you did anything else the others would think you're sick.

So to hide your underlying jealousy, you did the one thing you've learned to do best. Talk. You talked and talked until Latula made you stop and Meenah whisked Karkat away from you. You didn't miss the look of relief on his face.

You know your dancestor hated you, it was a feeling you were used to experiencing.

You used to wonder if it was just because of your mutant blood, the fact that you never seemed to say what you really wanted to say. Act like you really wanted to act. Who thought that lies to cover up your nervousness of making friends and them finding out your blood color would eventually define your whole character? Then you met Karkat and you knew that was false thinking. Your blood had nothing to do with it. You yourself was the problem.

You were just always the problem.

When Aranea told you about your supposed other life on Alternia, you were confused. You were considered important there, a hero to many, and you died for a great cause you started.

How were you important there, but nothing here? It didn't make any sense.

Now, here you were, just sitting in a corner of the forest that Latula's dancestor had lived in, letting tears just stream down your face, your face blank and even bored looking. Sometimes this happened; just random moments when you began to cry. You were used to it by now, and it didn't cause you to feel anything. It might be some psychological problem, but let's face it. You yourself were a problem. Nothing more, nothing less. Something no one wished to have but got anyway – like a bad 'Christmas' present you had heard one of the humans talking about. It just figures that your brain was as messed up as you.

You wish you could be like your dancestor. Or be like anyone else really. You didn't enjoy being the 'Insufferable' but you couldn't change what your friends thought of you now. The damage was done. You were doomed to spend eternity as nothing to everyone, just a nuisance to anyone who crossed your path.

You wonder how you managed to have Meulin flush for you in your post-scratch life. You were a hero then, so you must have been far different, so it somewhat made sense. You wonder what you were like then, and if you could have been like that in your own timeline. You doubt it.

Good things just never seemed to be in your cards.

You didn't actually take a vow of celibacy, despite what the others thought. It was nothing more than an excuse, so you didn't have to ever risk getting inevitably rejected. The only one you ever wanted was taken anyway.

Not like she would ever look at you that way. Never in any timeline would she feel red for you. The thought of that was laughable. If you hadn't been so uninterested in everything by now you probably would have let out a little chuckle, a small smile appearing on your tear-streaked, light red cheeks, your breath flying away from you with the breeze.

You hope your dancestor had better luck with his own Pyrope. He was better than you, and deserved to win his chase. You didn't deserve anything.

You blinked once, twice, three times before you realized you were hearing footsteps approaching. You raised an arm and wiped away your tears, and started to stand up. You sometimes wished you wouldn't and would just let someone find you like that: blank face, red tears, not saying a word. Sometimes you wished someone would find you like that and comfort you, make you feel like you were worth something to someone.

You turned to where you were detecting the noise and saw Latula skipping over to you. You used to enjoy talking to her, but now all it did was remind you of how you were nothing to her, and nothing to everyone else.

You took in a deep breath and opened your mouth, ready to go and spill out words you wished you didn't have to. Ready to go and dismiss your real thoughts. Sometimes you wished someone would find you crying and emotionless, and make you feel like you weren't just a big pain to everyone, but you knew it wouldn't ever happen, because no one actually cared about you.

You may have been the Sufferer on Alternia, but here, you were just the Insufferable, and nothing more.


End file.
